


The Captains and Us

by saltstreets



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Basically gen, I can't believe I'm falling down the rpf rabbithole, M/M, but I watched the derby and it was PRIME MATERIAL, sorry Mum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-15 23:03:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3465308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltstreets/pseuds/saltstreets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Revierderby gets a bit heated. Mats makes a phone call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Captains and Us

 

 

Benedikt doesn’t pick up on the first ring and Mats’ brain immediately launches into panic mode, sending itself spiralling into several dozen scenarios where Benni never speaks to him again and he’s forced to take drastic action in order to curry back favour. He’s in the middle of figuring out how to effectively blackmail Pep Guardiola into sending Manuel back to Schalke as an apology present when the phone rings for a third time and is picked up on the other end, the tinny ringtone cut off by a tentative, “Hello?”

Mats’ imagination comes to a screeching halt and takes a second of uncomfortable silence to rearrange itself to deal with reality before he can respond in kind. “Um, hi.”

His voice cracks with a weird tone at the end and Mats really hopes Benni puts it down to a bad connection or something less embarrassing than the fact that Mats has no clue what he wants to say right now. The match had ended a few hours ago and he was calling now because...well because it felt like the thing to do. They usually called each other after derbies, or sometimes after matches involving only one of their respective teams, if something ridiculous or spectacular had happened. Alternatively, if there had been a bad loss, a comforting phone call was usually welcomed from the injured party.

So it was a bit uncomfortable that in this case the injured party was, well, them.

Benni coughs in a sort of ‘here I go to speak’ way just as Mats says something rushed and garbled that might have been interpreted as “soaboutthematch” but could also have been something completely different.

They both cut themselves off. There’s another awkward pause and Mats despairs internally. Awkward pauses were for things like having to listen to the weird combination of faux gangster and adoration that made up the conversations Marco had with Mario over facetime, or the cashier’s silent impatience as you slowly picked out the correct coins to make exact change. Awkward pauses were not for talking with Benni. Mats can’t even remember the last time they had _had_ an awkward pause. This was breaking a great streak.

“Um, you go first,” Mats says, trying to cover up the silence but also because he really doesn’t know what to say. “If you want,” he adds hurriedly, suddenly realising maybe Benni might not know what to say either and he doesn’t want to put all the responsibility on him. Mats isn’t a bad friend, he really isn’t, even if things are currently a bit delicate. He always used to pride himself on the fact that he and Benni were so close despite the historic rivalry between their respective teams. He _still_ prides himself on that. Today things just got a bit shaky, and it had really unsettled him.

But Benni doesn’t take the tacked-on escape clause that Mats gives him. He breathes out and speaks, slowly, unsurely. “What happened today...I, um, got a bit carried away. I’m sorry I shouted like that but it was, you know, the moment and all.” Mats can practically envision Benni making the facial expression that always accompanies this worried, slightly awkward tone of voice. His eyes somewhat squinting in consternation, his hand maybe nervously running through his hair. _Which really has been looking good lately,_ Mats’ brain muses in a small corner that keeps itself reserved for these kind of dreamy observations. _Note to self: ask Benni where he got those transplants done if I ever start going b-a-l-d and am in dire need._

“Mats?”

 _Shit. There was just another awkward silence, wasn’t there? Only this time it was completely my fault because I apparently can’t focus on a conversation_ \- “Sorry, I’m still here.” Mats replies hurriedly, trying not to seem as though he’s not paying attention to what’s being said, which is difficult over the phone when all the other person has to go off of is whether or not there’s a response. One thing- timely responses. Already failed. Get your shit together, Hummels. “Um, please don’t apologise for today,” Mats says, scrambling for words and other things that will make this whole exchange less stilted and generally painful. “I mean, you don’t have to apologise. What happens on the pitch isn’t what happens in, um, the real world. We all know that. It’s the same as when you run up against your club mates in an international match, you know? Sometimes you have to put your team in front of your personal friendships. And yeah, so I didn’t like us yelling at each other but it wasn’t really us, it was the captains of Dortmund and Schalke. The captains who had an obligation to their teams, not to each other.”

That’s probably the most philosophical thing Mats has ever said and he kinda wants to tweet it or have Marco get it tattooed on his back (Marco already has a couple corny tattoos so one more isn’t going to hurt, and if it was on Mats’ _own_ back he wouldn’t be able to admire it without at least two mirrors) but he’s in the middle of something so tattooing is out and also tweeting? Seriously? He’s not _Podolski_ , for chrissakes, aaaand Benni isn’t responding so he rushes onward, “Oh, and I’m the one who should be sorry anyway because it’s a little bit your birthday today, your quasi-birthday, so I’m sorry for yelling in your face and happy birthday?”

Benni is silent for another second and then he says, a bit of the old humour back in his tone, “You do know that I usually celebrate on March 1st when it’s not a leap year, right? Because technically that still is the day just with a different name on it.”

There’s a rush of relief down Mats’ spine and he slumps back happily against the headboard of his bed where he’d been sitting up ramrod straight with nerves. “Okay ‘technically’, sure, whatever you say. Leap years are strange. You’re what now, about six and a half?”

“I’m twenty-seven now and older than you and you know it,” Benni retorts, but the grin he must be wearing on the other end of the line is more than evident in his voice. He pauses. “And anyway it’d be six and _three quarters_.”

“So you do admit it!” Mats crows, and almost reaches his hand out instinctively to swat amicably at Benni’s arm before his brain catches up to the reaction and remembers that they’re not actually in the same room. Telephone technology. Right.

There’s a momentary quiet but now it’s a comfortable one. The kind of quiet you share, rather than endure.

Benni is the one who breaks it. “But really, that was...kind of poetic. All that you said. About who we are on and off the pitch.” He stops a second. “It really made a lot of sense to me. So thanks. It was really nice, Mats.”

Mats grins very widely indeed, showing teeth and subsequently gaining a level in piratical appearance. “I am a beautiful and poetic soul Benni, you ought to know that.”

“Oh, shut up.” Benni laughs. “Hey, d’you want to come over tomorrow and-”

“I’d love to” Mats blurts out, running over the last part of the sentence.

Benni pauses, and finishes “...clean the whole house?” in a sort of gleeful tone, like he’s just tricked Mats in the cleverest way imaginable.

“You're ridiculous. But I will absolutely come over for birthday spaghetti and cake because that’s definitely what you were actually going to ask me. Do not pretend like you weren’t.”

“Yeah, okay, that was the one. Come over at six?”

“Six it is.” Mats is smiling absurdly and he can’t seem to stop. All the tension and worry has broken into a sort of giddiness that he can’t control. “See you then! Oh, and Benni?”

“Mm?”

“You know you’re my favourite, right?”

Benni laughs. “Yeah, I’d better be.”

“...even if you did foul Marco during the match.”

“I’m making you do all the dishes tomorrow, oh my god,” Benni laughs, and there, that’s it, all is right in the world. Definitively. Undoubtedly.

Mats rolls his eyes happily. “Whatever you say. Bye, Benni.”

“Bye- oh, Mats? Thanks for calling.”

It’s probably not humanly possible to smile any more than Mats already is but he manages it. “Of course,” he says, practically glowing. “I always call after matches.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time writing anything for footie fandom so take it easy on me? I had fun with it though! Oh gosh I think this is going to become my new Thing.


End file.
